


Messy Starts & Not So Final Ends

by JellyBump



Category: Van Helsing (TV 2016)
Genre: Blood, Don't be surprised, F/F, established temporary death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:33:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9104854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyBump/pseuds/JellyBump
Summary: Vanessa's thoughts on the evening of her death.





	

Fucking Tommy.

Did she release some kind of damn signal that only the severely stunted could hear? Seriously. What's the deal.

Every couple of months it's the same thing, sweet as pie as long as they're getting their dick wet - and then she disagrees. Or she burns something. Or she doesn't have the beer they want. Or she fucking breathes wrong.

Another bruise on my best friends face, and it hurts. Seeing Susan try and every time it just blows up in front of her, I want to tear them to shreds.

I slam that shitheads head into the wall, his nose snaps and I don't want to stop - I won't stop this time - I want to see how much pressure I can put use until something snaps again - but it's her voice that brings me back, makes me realise that Dylan is begging me not to, that I need to stop. 

He threatens me.

I hope he comes back. I can call it self defense. 

My two favourite girls in front of me, but I can't stay out there with her for long - because she makes me want, and I can't deal with that right now.  
So I take Dylan in, and there's almost peace. She video calls her father, and he makes his excuses.  
I'm exhausted, I feel drained and I want today to be over - and when I think about it (did I put the candles on before or after?) I'm not sure what really happened, because Susan is at the door, with a familiar bottle.

It's basically a tradition now, I kick her 'boyfriend' to the curb, we get shitfaced, and I fight the urge to act on every loaded look she gives me. Tonight, I just can't. Even if it wasn't Dylan's birthday, I don't think I could - there's something inside me that just won't settle, and I can only push it back so far.  
I make my excuses, it really is her birthday so I'm not lying and then its 'she'll be over later'.

She'll be over later. It feels like a dare, a challenge, when all I want to do is wrap her up in blankets and my arms. I want to hold her, feel her breathing, know she is safe because she's with me. No one can touch a strand of that blonde hair when my face is buried in it, and I'll touch everywhere he's touched - like I'm erasing him (and all the ones before) from her skin, because she deserves so much better than what she's had. She deserves better than what I can give, but I'm aching to try, to give her what she always hints at, I want my head between her legs with her face flushed -

I wouldn't be any better than them. Taking advantage of her. If she just stopped dating, if she came to me when she was sober without the dark impressions that cruel hands leave behind. I would embrace everything she wants without a doubt.

God, I want her.

And I know it's not right that I'm thinking that now, that I'm thinking about how much I love that stupid woman, but I love Dylan too and I make sure to tell her (the blood is warm, and it feels almost smooth against my neck) because I am gonna miss her, I'm gonna miss them both (it feels like I'm leaking eveywhere that matters) I tell her to go to Susan, because she'll look after Dylan, (I'm shaking I can feel it, barely, I can see Dylan's, wide, terrified eyes) she will do the best she can, even if it's not enough (she's crying, oh god I'm sorry).

That last breath trying to leave my body, I'm so fucking cold, I'm freezing, and I choke up blood. 

The shaking stops.


End file.
